


Is that supposed to be a compliment?

by aljohnson



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Soul mate fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 06:09:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9535217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aljohnson/pseuds/aljohnson
Summary: In which Jack finds his soul mate, again, and Phryne gets annoyed at the universe...





	

“Well luckily for you, I’m wearing gloves”  
….  
****************************

When he’d first met her, and she’d said those words which had been seared on his skin for so long, he hadn’t known what to do. He’d got over that fairly quickly.

What were the chances? He’d only received the divorce papers a few days ago. And in any event, he didn’t believe in any of this. Not now. Not after everything…

He felt bad, about Rosie. None of it was her fault. And if, as he strongly suspected the ‘soul mate’ ideal was just that – an ideal, and therefore, as far as he was concerned, unattainable, then perhaps he needn’t feel quite so bad? And perhaps he should stop trying to cling to his marriage? He’d been telling himself that it was for Rosie’s sake. Apparently, Rosie wasn’t prepared to continue the charade any longer…

He’d tried to sneak a look at her thigh when he’d escorted her from the Turkish Bath House. Which was less than professional, he’d admonished himself later. There was nothing there. It had to be a fluke, surely? Or a coincidence? After all, ‘well, luckily for you I’m wearing gloves’ was a common phrase. Wasn’t it? Oh - perhaps that meant that Rosie and him hadn’t really been ‘soul mates’ after all – just young and giddy and all too eager to believe? That was something, then.

As he lay in bed that night, he assured himself that as all women wore gloves, the probability of them remarking on that fact in the course of ordinary conversation was very high. Quite high. It meant nothing. He resolutely ignored the tingling in his thigh as he pulled the bed covers up under his chin and fell asleep.

******************

“To pirates, adventurers and boys on bicycles!” They clinked glasses and both drank. Phryne watched as Jack tried not to pull a face due to the strength of the cocktail. “Do you believe in soul mates, Jack?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Just interested. Did I see the edge of a mark on your thigh?”

“Were you examining my thigh Miss Fisher?”

“Perhaps… Did I imagine that you were looking at my thigh?”

Jack coughed, and adjusted his tie. “I take it you don’t believe…” He gestured towards Phryne with his cocktail glass.

“On account of not having one? No. It strikes me as fanciful nonsense. And, controlling…”

“Independent as ever, Miss Fisher.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that Jack.”

“Of course not, Phryne.” Jack rolled her name around his lips, trying it for size. “You’ve never had a mark then?” he asked, pedalling desperately for solid ground.

“No, no.”

“Just, some people do cover them up. I wondered perhaps if…”

“If there was one, and it was Rene? No. Thank goodness.”

“Thank goodness? So you think there’s maybe something in it?”

“I think it might have been ever harder for me to get away, if I’d had a mark, and it had matched his. Perhaps the fact that neither of us had one should have been a warning to me?”

Jack coughed again. “Mine and Rosie’s matched...” he winced slightly at the admission.

“Oh Jack! I am sorry.”

He shrugged. “All the marks in the world don’t mean a thing if you just can’t make it work.”

“I knew you were an honourable man Jack. I can see now why you tried to hang on for so long.”

“It might have been more honourable to have called time on the whole charade earlier.”

“So do you believe?” Phryne fluttered her eyelashes as she took a further sip of her drink.

Jack tilted his head a little, considering his answer. “I think… that perhaps you’re right, Miss Fisher, it should be up to the individual to choose, if they want to choose at all… But perhaps the words might give a person a nudge?”

“Freedom of choice. I’ll drink to that Jack…”

***************************

As she relaxed in the bath she felt the skin on her thigh tingle. Confused, she looked down and cleared the bubbles away.

‘That’s because’ had appeared on her skin.

Her jaw dropped. She was not going to stand for this nonsense! She had remained resolutely unmarked for the entirety of her life. Throwing her sponge into the water in disgust, she hauled herself out of the bath. This was not happening!

*********

A week later, as she lay in bed the morning after she’d enjoyed that rather lovely bottle of wine with Jack, she felt another tingling. Panicking slightly, she pulled up her silk nightgown. ‘That’s because you’re not’ was now emblazoned on her thigh.

No, no, no! She did not want this! She did not believe in this! And besides, she was hoping that something would happen with Jack; it felt like they were getting closer all the time.

*****************

Two weeks later, as the case which somehow involved her father whirled and swirled around her, she felt the tingling once more. As she was changing her outfit she glanced down. ‘That’s because you’re not a telescope’.

What? What was this nonsense? If there was, somehow, anything in this ‘soul mate’ malarkey, who on *earth* would say something like that?

And why?

*******************

Oh. Oh. So it was… Oh. And he’d been about to kiss her, and she’d freaked out and found an excuse to distract them. And now she had to leave…

She lay in bed, tossing and turning. She wanted him. But if he was her ‘soul mate’, what did that mean? Was this still her choice? Was she, somehow, being manipulated, by ‘mystic forces’, or, something else she couldn’t name?

*********************

They’d been too distracted to pay any heed to any words either of them might have marked on them when they’d stumbled into Phryne’s gloriously appointed bed in her Bloomsbury flat. Now, with the first flurry of passion calmed, they had time, at last, to talk.

“I’m afraid, Jack, that you might be my soul mate.”

There was a pause. “I thought you didn’t believe in such things?”

“I’m still not sure I do. But I’m afraid you said something very specific.”

“Really? In the name of full disclosure, Miss Fisher, you have uttered the words on my thigh to me…”

“I have? But I thought you said that you and Rosie matched?”

“Yes. Can I look?”

“Of course…” Phryne pushed the bed covers down, shivering slightly at the loss of warmth.

Jack kissed his way down her stomach, pausing when his eyes aligned with the words seared into her thigh. “Oh?”

“Jack?”

“But this… this doesn’t make sense?”

“Well you have definitely said those words to me Jack. I recall it quite distinctly.”

“And you’ve said these words to me,” Jack sat up, moving his leg to expose his mark, “But we didn’t say them at the same time…”

“Is that supposed to matter? After all, if neither of us believes in this…”

“And it’s all free choice…” Jack kissed Phryne’s thigh.

“Then who said what and when, shouldn’t really matter…”

“But it somehow feels like it does…”

“Only if you let it, Phryne…”

“And I don’t want to let it…”

“So don’t. You said my words, I said yours, and nothing happened. And then you asked me to come after you, and I did. And only then did we… well…”

“Very well, I’d say…” Phryne giggled, and pulled Jack up by the shoulder.

“My point is… there were, are, continue to be, so many variables. And neither of us is going to force ourselves to stay in this thing if we find it isn’t working, just because of what might be written on our skin.”

“So what are you saying Jack?”

“Believe. Or don’t. At the end of the day, if we want to be together, then we’ll be together.”

“Because we chose to be?”

“Because we chose to be.” Jack confirmed.

“Hmm. Now, about *your* telescope…”

"Is that supposed to be a compliment, Miss Fisher?" Jack groaned as Phryne's hand wandered lower.

"Would you like me to improve on it, Jack?" Phryne teased.

"More than anything... And if there's a flashing blue light behind me, please ignore it this time..."


End file.
